


Thorns

by SaintImperator



Category: Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/F, if thats what the kids are into, its just edgy sleeping beauty nonsense with lesbians, lesbian fairytales, shit i dont even know why i wrote this but whatever is cool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-28 08:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: Just some weird high fantasy spin off with bloodborne ocs. Theres lesbians, theres magic there's some other nonsene. Make of it what you will.





	1. Prolouge

_ The coastline was a jagged ridge of shale. The cliffs poked their way out to sea and I had always thought that were I a bird sailing high above the billows it would look as though the land and sea were pieces of parchment ripped away from each other. I liked to walk up to the edge, as far as I dared and feel the sea spray on my skin. All of the shops and their keepers were so far inland, that I never saw another soul this far out.  _

_ They didn’t like to leave the castle, all white and lacy with glass roses and ruffled curtains. It looked ridiculous, a wedding cake in a city of common rolls. All of the architects and builders in the city took one look at the spires and archways before setting down their tools and closing up shop. They were resigned to building only the simplest of structures, for none could come close to the castle’s majesty. _

_ It had been built with magic of course, that was what they all failed to see. I was born to the wild world, where blood circles and dried herbs were the currency of life. I did not understand their ways of coin and currency, that I should turn my craft to copper and then use that to buy my bread. I had remedies to trade for their bones. I would accept their heirlooms, their hair, their teeth. These were things that could not be bought with copper. They had to be traded in darkest night, with only the stars to act as council and witness as the bargains beneath a new moon took place. I could give my customers whatever they asked. They thought my prices fair, for those who are desperate are ignorant and do not realize what they give away until it is gone. _

_ In the days before copper coins I was a god, an oracle, a being of great power. They came to me on bended knee, and blessed my work when it was down. Now I was naught but their witch, their nightmare. I was something to make stories out of to keep their spawn in line. _

_ Do not go into the woods or she will catch you. _

_ Say your prayers or her vile vines will sprout in your stomach, come up from your throat and scratch all your words away.  _

_ They believed in me when they were young, so they hated me as they grew old. Less and less was I used for miracles. Now the weeping women came to me when their men were faithless and had left them unmarried with whelps in their womb. Some asked for the baby to be poisoned and swallowed drops of hemlock and belladonna. Others asked for it to be killed, and showed me the stab wounds in their own stomach- where their attempts had failed. The witless whores and recently widowed worshipped me, in the secret ceremonies where they all but sold their souls. Come morning it was back to whispers- they didn’t need me around to tend their wounds and sate their ailing hearts. _

_ I could not remember the last time a word of thanks was genuine and given to me without fear. My heart grew black from it all, and I was not patient with the next sobbing widow who came to my door. Her belly bulged though she did her best to conceal it within a corset of whalebone and white leather. It was yellowing at the edges, and had surely suffocated the infant within her in addition to giving that girl a ridiculous shape. _

_ “Please.” She begged me, “Please you have to help me.” _

_ The girl filled my hands with more copper then her bedraggled appearance had led me to expect. I did not have the same greed in my heart that ensnared the men in the town, but I found my own pleasures in sparkling coin. A woman has to eat, be clothed and stay warm after all. _

_ “What is it you want?” I asked. _

_ “My lover has left me.” She said. _

_ “They always do.” I replied. _

_ The wench fought against tears as she struggled to explain. A trail of snot left her nose and trailed to her sleeve. I noticed the crust of it now, encasing the fabric. It did put me off her cause a fair amount. People might have their noble ideals, but I was not obligated to keep them. I preferred to do my dealings with the beautiful as opposed to the ugly and misshapen. _

_ “He’s not like that.” She sniffled, “But without him I won’t be able to care for the child. There is no money.” _

_ “What of the sums you have given me?” I asked. _

_ “It is stolen.” She explained, “From my mother and father. They won’t come looking for it I promise. They don’t approve of what I am to do.” _

_ I had no fear of them coming after me. The families were shamed enough by their promiscuous daughters, and weren’t going to chase down the witch who had done the deed.  _

_ “Is there enough?” She asked. _

_ “It will be sufficient.” I said, turning to the table beside me and looking through the knives and potions laid out atop it. _

_ “No!” she cried, “Never! You musn’t kill her! You must raise her!” _

_ “That wasn’t-“ _

_ “You said it was sufficient.” The weeping lady insisted. “You have to take her out and raise her for your own.” _

_ “I am a sorceress not a midwife.” I complained. She had made a bargain though, and in my unwitting boredom I had sworn to it. I made efforts to talk myself away from it, but at every turn she mourned and begged and said that I had agreed to her terms. She was wrong, but then again she was right. I would not dishonor my word- in these days it was all I had. _

_ “Very well.” I said, “Lie there on the straw and I shall take your child.” _

_ “Oh thank you Madame Seren.” She said. “What should I ever do without your kindness.” _

_ “Perish.” I said, and drew a line of black magic round her throat. The poison thorns would make for an all but instant death. She had made no bargain for her own survival andI had no wish for the squealing and panting, the sweat and mess of a woman in labor, “For I am not kind.” _

_ A red line of blood across her neck, twin to the one that came from her legs as I pulled the squalling infant from between them. Such a hideous thing to be saddled with, and as I wiped its wriggling body clear, the cloth was torn by black thorns. My magic had infected the child.  _

_ She was to be a hideous wretch, and I saddled with her care. _

_ Oh how I hated this world of coins and copper and weeping women. I would bring the times of blood and bone back. Raising this child would be the last favor I did for the village people. I left the babe in a bread tin by the fire, then turned to my cauldron. I plied my old trade, mixing together the oldest of remedies and turning my dirt and thatch-roof hovel into a castle to rival the one in the center of their simple town. _

_ Instead of simple houses I raised a nest of brambles, filling them with spiders and snakes- everything that crying scullery maids feared so that none would ever be tempted to approach me again. Within this black castle, I raised the terrible child, and waited for the passions of this world to fade and dissolve into the old ways I had always known. _


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We flash forward, and thus the story begins

_“You let the fire die again!” _

_ The shout came just before the kettle. How Mothers’ ancient bones could so gracefully send a piece of cast of iron sailing through the air I did not know. It was the only piece of this routine that remained a surprise, for even as I struggled to stir from my sleeping mat on any given day, I could reflexively raise my arm and catch the pot without having to open my eyes. She always aimed for my face._

_ Her heel hit the ground several times in rapid succession. She could tap all she wanted, the sun hadn’t come up yet and neither would I. Her crusty pots could scrub themselves- and I’d watched her enchant them too do as much._

_ “You useless lazy thing,” She scoffed, “I never should’ve let myself be swindled into caring for you. Ungrateful wretch.”_

_ It went on and on until the weight of my eyelids was stronger then the volume of her pointed words. I had been terrified of her in childhood, but now that I had grown stronger while she became brittle the crone didn’t scare me. I knew she wasn’t truly my mother- but she had not provided me a substitute moniker. I was more her attendant then her child. Every beast in the woods was, to some degree or other under her control._

_ I could not leave the woods, for they would retrieve me. If Mother decided that I should not even so much as step into the courtyard I would surely be stalked by a line of scorpion soldiers. Their stinging tails poised to strike were as effective as any lock and key. I’d mistakenly tread on one many years ago and the memory of the stingers’ pain still blazed brightly in my mind._

_ She came back the moment the sun was up. Something about daylight curled my bones to her will, and while my mind was still full of midnight passions I could not deny her endless lists of tasks set for me. There were more every day as Mother struggled to maintain the crumbling infrastructure of the castle. She refused to hire servants. Mother claimed she did not want to bother to board them, that they should be expensive to feed and clothe. Truly it was because she feared their betrayal and would rather rely on her own magic then have to place trust in another. She wasn’t able tog et rid of me, and I had made my distaste clear enough. I could not entirely say I blamed her._

_ “Rise and eat your breakfast.” Mother said, “There is much you need fetch for me today. As always the bundles you bring back are pitiful and run short. How am I to provide for us when you consistently fail to be of even the littlest use?”_

_ I had taken to not responding, but did as I was bid. I left my sleeping mat and went down the flight of stairs to the kitchen. It looked as though a great feast could be prepared here, going by the size of the oven and the abundance of pots and pans. One need only look in the larder to see that this was hardly a place for cooking feasts. The shelves were filled with dried herbs and cured meats- as any but there were also live lizards, the skulls of small creatures and human children, poisonous mushrooms and vial upon vial of blood. Some of it had foamed and congealed near the top of its beaker, in a most unpleasant froth. _

_ Something in my Mother’s contract of old compelled her to prepare food for my meals. On the table there was toast, and a lump of cheese. She had left out a cup of milk as well. Next to it was a cloth bundle which contained another bit of bread, cheese and perhaps an apple. I was pleased to see it, for that meant I would have to go deep into the woods and could enjoy some time away from Mother’s spiteful gaze._

_ “Hurry up Fwahe!” She scolded, “My stores aren’t going to replenish themselves!”_

_ With that she put down a roll of parchment, containing all of the things I was to find and left me to my meal._

_ Her task was tedious, for as I made my way into the woods collecting the nettles and petals she had asked of me, I soon began to stay from the path. It wasn’t a conscious choice at first, simply a hazelnut fallen a few steps from the usual trail that I wished to inspect, but gradually the more I wandered I found there was a melody pulling me onwards. Somewhere amongst the clusters of trees and brush, someone was singing._

_ It possessed me entirely, and I was destined to seek its source._

_My heart rose and fell in the same moment that I saw her. Pushing apart a sprig of juniper, I at last found the source of the sweet singing that had lured me deeper into the woods then I’d dared before. The sound wasn’t entirely human, nor either was it animal. It danced somewhere between bird song and church chorus, filling my head with a sweet fog. It was like drinking too much wine. I was starting to loose myself._

_ Then I saw the singer, the siren, bent over the brook washing out her silver curls in the stream. There was stardust caught in her hair, and as it washed out the water began to glow. I was overcome with curiosities, burning to know how she’d gotten close enough to come away with so much. It was beneath her skin, sparkling over her arms. The strange girl’s white dress caught in the stream and soaked up the stardust over again._

_ She was never going to get it clean like that._

_ In a start her head rose, just as a doe’s would when suddenly aware of a hunter. I was frozen. To retreat back through the bracken would make such noise as to alert her, yet to come forward would be to admit I had been watching. My heart pounded, hoping that for once the thorns poking through my skin would do something to aide in a disguise._

_ She wasn’t fooled for a second._

_ “I’m not afraid of you.”_

_ If I’d the witch’s vindictive heart I would’ve cursed her then too for her voice had the same enchanting lilt as her song. I would have her say anything to me, if only to have her speak more and bless me with the sound._

_ I tried to think of what to say to her as I stepped out of the bushes. My twisted form was enough so that the mirrors in the Black Castle were covered, and I’d taken to bathing in the dull light of the moon as opposed to the scorching sun. How she could look upon me and not fear for herself was miracle of itself._

_ “I’m not going to hurt you.” I said._

_ She smiled, stepping out of the stream and sitting on one of the rocks near the river. She plucked at the damp fabric of her skirt, arranging it as she pleased. The girl, true to her word did not seem afraid in the slightest._

_ “I heard you singing.” I said, “It was very beautiful and my manners got away from me.”_

_ “Oh!” She exclaimed, getting up from the rock with a start, “Shall we have introductions?”_

_ The witch had warned me countless times to never offer my name willingly. It had a power, and could not be given lightly. I paid all Mother’s incessant warnings no heed._

_ “I’m Fwahe.” I said._

_ “No no.” The girl tutted at me, “That isn’t the way.”_

_ She bounded forward on the tips of her toes, taking my hand lightly in her own._

_ “C-careful!” I cried, for they were covered in thorns. Her touch was light and gentle, sure that it would not be harmed. She kept her word not to be afraid, I would do the same and stay her from danger._

_ She swept one of her legs behind the other and dropped into an elegant curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”_

_ The words that came to follow were both trite and expected, yet the most genuine sentiment I’d ever known. “The pleasure’s all mine.”_

_ She smiled, pressing her lips gently to the back of my hand. There were thorns there too, and I could feel her soft skin catch on them, if ever so slightly. I held very still and she took care as she pulled away so that nothing was torn._

_ “Lady please, what may I call you?” I asked._

_ She rose from her curtsey and I realized she was shorter then me. From afar her elegance painted such a towering picture that I hadn’t realized her true size. I might even dane to consider her dainty, with fine pointed toes and long elegant fingers. I could reach out and brush the top of her head if I wanted to, and oh, did I ever. I wanted to feel the spring of her curls after a gentle depression, see if some of the stardust caught there might come away and cling to me._

_ “My name is Frigga.” She said, “At least the name that would be the easiest for you to pronounce. I’ve been given quite a few over the years.”_

_ Never to ask a woman her age, but oh how it slipped, “How many?”_

_ “More then you shall ever know. I remember when these tress were seeds and thoughts and barren earth. There used to be nothing here but dust, and I recall the emptiness like childhood.”_

_ “I do not like my memories from then either.” I said._

_ “Then let us dwell on happier times.” _

_ Frigga settled herself on the grass and patted it gently. I knelt across from her. It was strange to be sitting there, trying to hide my legs beneath me. Thorns poked into my thighs and I held myself up on my knees, not wanting to draw any blood or unwanted attention. I tried to think of a happy memory to share with her. My thoughts had been drained, swirled down to the depths of a well without a bucket. There was nothing for me to pull from, and my words fell dead and dry on my tongue._

_ I could feel her questions burning, they would have to be. Here I sat a girl growing thorns, and though I’d never been outside of the forested boundary I knew it was a unique condition. The witch had made that aggressively clear, that she had never seen so ugly a thing as me on the day I was born. I was every monster depicted in crude etchings on protective talismans, clawed and horned and hideous._

_ “Do you know how to get it out?” She asked._

_ I couldn’t follow what she meant at first, until she began to fiddle with her hair, trying to pull the dust away. It would never come out like that- stars were sticky._

_ “Yes.” I said_

_ “Won’t you tell me? I must’ve slept too close to the moon last night and he sent the shooting stars to shoo me away.”_

_ “How do you get up so high?”_

_ “Fly of course.” She laughed, “Though I don’t think I’ll be going up at night for awhile.”_

_ I nodded as though I understood her, and laid out what the witch had taught me about stardust. It was a tricky thing to collect, and if she had asked me to I would’ve been bound to bring it back to her, risking a trace of Frigga’s hair or skin being caught in a spell. I was glad that I’d brought back so much last time, and could let this waste away._

_ From my pouch I took a sunflower seed and held it out to her. She leaned close, wide blue eyes focusing on the tips of my fingers._

_ “You have to chase it out with this.” I said, “Stars hate the sun, and so the stardust the sunflower.”_

_ “But it’s so tiny. That will take forever.”_

_ “I can help.” I said._

_ She darted across the ground and sat just before me, shaking her hair over her shoulder. “Won’t you please?”_

_ What would be a toil to her was a thrill to me. I wanted a smaller sunflower seed and wished that the river hadn’t taken so much away already. I stared on the left slowly working through every wave and kink to filter the stardust away. I had to be especially careful not to catch my claws on any of her curls, and to hold everything gently, with only the lightest touch. I got to run my fingers through every strand of her hair, which was soft and glorious. It always found a way to return to the perfect place, maintain a part through the center with just the right practiced ease. If I’d wanted my hair to be half so neat it would’ve taken several hours and a few broke combs. The sunflower seed slipped right through hers, and as the sun carried its arc through the sky she was by and by cleansed of the night._

_ She spoke first, saying all manner of interesting things as I worked. I did my best to keep focus, but she would fly through topics so quickly that by the time I’d thought of anything to contribute she was miles deep into the finer points of additive magic circle sigils and why Smirke’s list of runes was the closest humankind have ever come to truly grasping the nature of wild magic- but still miles away from what one knew when one was born to it._

_ “Will you sing again?” I asked._

_ “Did you favor it before?” _

_ “Very much. I’d never heard anything quite like it before.”_

_ She was pleased by this and continued. I don’t know when she found the time to take a breath, for her notes seemed to hold out forever- never wavering in their tenor. All too soon I’d gotten the last of the pesky star dust out. Frigga thanked me, shaking her hair from side to side and marveling at the sparkling cloud on the ground._

_ She offered her thanks and I was going to make as though there was nothing to it, but of course the old witch had her ways. A stabbing pain spread through my stomach, bending me double. It felt like something was going to sprout from my spine, or hot coals spill from my lips._

_ “Fwahe, are you okay?”_

_ I saw her hand reaching towards me. I tried to get out a word of warning, but I wasn’t fast enough. A promise broken she touched my shoulder, then instantly withdrew. It was burning from the witch’s magic, I’d tarried too long and she was trying to pull me back to task. I couldn’t choke out an apology. I stumbled back towards the bushes, running as her puppet’s strings pulled me back. The same blackberry branches that I’d carefully pushed aside now clawed at me, getting their bite in wherever they could as I trampled their new growth._

_ I could only hope that Mother hadn’t seen the girl._


	3. Chapter 2

I was pulled into a clearing. The sky began to change from a pleasant light blue to darkened gray and then entirely pitch-black. Clouds swirled overhead, churning into a nightmare fog, crackling with bolts of lightning. Mother’s face began to form in their roiling surface, and as the cloud-vision of the witch began to settle, it began to speak. The first sound was a clap of thunder, loud enough to shake spring leaves from the upper boughs of the trees around the glade.  
“Where exactly have you been?”  
The pain in my chest faded enough for me to catch my breath and make a reply. “C-collecting things, in the woods. Like you asked.”  
“Don’t play coy with me girl. You left the woods. Where did you go?”  
“Nowhere.” I said, “Truly.”  
I strained to recall the items I’d been tasked to obtain, but the pain had blurred my senses. The old witch was furious, and her patience thin. Another clap of thunder filled the air. My ears rang with the sound, but even pressing my hands to them did nothing to dull the ringing.  
“Lies!”  
“I just went through some bushes.” I said, “You’ve seen me try to leave the woods before I wasn’t even going in the right direction for that!”  
This stopped her if only for mere moments as she had to consider the geography of her own prison. Though she’d created the forest around the Black Castle she didn’t enter it often, and I knew she was not so familiar with its many twists and turns as I. Fortune favored me, as she was forced to conclude that I had merely stumbled upon some oversight in her spell language. Her anger still boiled and raged, but there was an inward turn to it.  
I was now certain she didn’t know about Frigga and that it was something of her magic that had hidden me. I was grateful, if confused by such a gesture. She shouldn’t have known to protect me, especially not after I’d hurt her. No, it wouldn’t have been Frigga’s doing, for what would’ve broken the spell and rendered me visible once more? I could not account for the occurrence, and I feared a lack of explanation- when pressed for answers would lead to disapproval and punishments.  
“Return to the castle at once.” The thunderous voice commanded. “Whatever you haven’t found can wait.”  
That had certainly never been the case before. There had been times when the rain had driven me to hide in the shelter of a rock outcropping or risk my skin being sliced by the speed of freezing deluge and I’d still been scolded for neglecting to return with the proper supply of obscure mushroom or leaf poultice. To say my errand could wait was the true hallmark that something had gone very wrong.  
The sky cleared and the witch’s hold on me faded. As I drew near the castle I felt myself again.  
\--  
It loomed as a shadow over everything. The sun hadn’t even reached it height, but the castle’s shadow bathed the surrounding grounds with dark patches. Even the sunlight seemed sinister, shining through the dark red windowpanes making the building look like it was bleeding- each glimpse inside to a gaping wound. We could have white furniture for its bones.  
Mother is waiting at the door, impatient for me to cross the lawn and attend her. I know what will be coming, a series of questions and tests, while she tried to glean knowledge from me. I couldn’t tell her what had happened. Anytime something went astray she attribuited it to my own socerry or innate ability. I never knew what she was talking about. She’d taught me so very little magic, and yet believed me so capable.  
I had to make up my mind before I saw her face- stern and scowling.  
I had to decide if I was going to tell her about the girl. It would have to be a firm choice, I could never waver. When I had twisted my fingers In her hair I had known I’d never betray her. Now that the star dust was washed away did I feel the same?  
Had she even been real?  
It didn’t matter.  
I would not betray her- for want to hear her song again. So simple a desire but it was enough.  
I hoped it would be enough.  
Mother certainly had ways of compelling one to tell the truth. I’d seen her store of potions and tried to read the spells over her shoulder while she worked.  
I revised my vows. If I gave up the girl- it would not be by choice. She would have to force me to do so. That promise I could keep. I took a last longing look towards the woods before I disappeared into the castle’s maw and attended the old crone.  
She grabbed a fistful of my hair as I came in the door. I could curse her for always being so careful. Never once did she snag on the thorns.  
She didn’t speak a word as she drug me through the halls- my protests meant nothing to her. She seemed to know every move that I would make, twisting my head and adjusting her grip just so that I never had a chance at her. I could fight all I liked, but she saw my moves coming. I was taken to the west wing chamber where a ritual circle had been not only painted on the floor but carved into the very stone. It could not be broken.  
This circle was reserved for Mother’s most powerful spells, and I was rarely allowed to look at it, much less step inside. She pushed me into the center and spoke words of binding. I would not be allowed to leave, unless I used what power I had to fight against her. That was a tiresome battle and not yet worth fighting. I sat down cross legged in the center and waited for the lecture to begin.  
And talk she did, there were a million inquiries, punctured by flares of flame dancing around the outer edge of the circle. She was convinced it had been something of my own doing, a trick or illusion that had concealed me from her- as if a half hour of freedom was such a crime. I told her over and over that I had done nothing insisted I’d only crossed into a strange part of the forest which I had never seen before.  
“Girl, I have given you every chance to tell me the truth- and still I am denied.” Mother sighed, “How many times have I begged you to tell me the truth.”  
“I didn’t keep count.” I said, spitting into the flames so I could hear them hiss back at me.  
“The proof is all over your fingers- for I know you took not to the skys- why then do they glow with stars?”  
I didn’t answer her, straining to think of a viable excuse while the flames on the outside of the circle burned higher and hotter. I could see twisted faces dancing and screaming in the flickering light. The cold gaze of the old crone still cut through it all, chilling me down to bone.  
“Answer me now.” She demanded.  
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the scenes in the fire, but they flashed through my mind even as I sealed out the light. She pressed me further, each word hammered into my skull like a nail. My temple ached and my hands cradled my head as though that could do anything to dull the growing ache. I could swear something was about to burst through my skull.  
I unleashed it with a scream, and something in the world snapped. The ground beneath me broke in half, snaking in spiderwebs over the containment circle and rendering them useless. I opened my eyes to utter destruction. Thorns had sprouted through the cracks in the bricks, snaking vines scattered over the floor, winding their way up the staircase and encircling the witch in a cage of my own sudden making.  
“Girl what have you-“  
“I don’t know.” I said, looking down at my hands as they went darker, more tiny thorns poking their way further and further up my arms, “I don’t know what’s happening.”  
She did not doubt my terror, believing fully in my ignorance. She was able to regain her composure, sprinkling a red powder over the vegetation and watching as it blackened and shrunk back to dust. The antidote to the thorns did not effect me, I could not feel them burning. The moment the way was clear I ran from that wing, sprinting down the halls and up the stairs to my own room.  
It made for poor hiding place- I was certain that her interrogation would shortly continue once the circle has been re-made, and there was no telling what additional safeguards she’d put in place after seeing what had happened. I wasn’t even sure if I could call upon such powers again- I hadn’t meant to. I wanted to resist all the same, and set about piling everything I could find against the door, locking every window and pulling the drapes until I was bathed in synthetic darkness. The only light came from the candles, and I was too cold to justify their dousing.  
I pulled them close to me, trying to stay warm from their flickering glow. Any moment now the witch would be upon me, her clicking heels come up the stairs to fetch me back down. I would have to give up the girl- loathe though I was to do so. She may not even believe me then, but how else was I to make her see sense. I rubbed at my fingertips with the bedsheet, trying to chase out the last of the stardust. Useless without a sunflower seed, I knew- but it was more satisfying to rub furiously then clean with meticulous precision.  
I should look so foolish weeping over my bedcovers, but the hope drained where it once blossomed was too much to bear. I knew this was the behavior of soft damsels, who’d earned my scorn from many a tattered book but never before had I understood their feelings. All the while I knew how foolish I was being, for tears would not stay Mother’s questions.  
My heart felt like a bird in my rib cage, fluttering to break free anyway it could.  
I let my grief run it’s course until I was out of tears to spill. The candle has become a stump, wax now run between the cobbles in spiderwebbed patterns. If I had been able to study all of the language of symbols I could’ve tried to burn a protective seal and close off my room, but that would’ve made it a tomb, nothing coming in or out.  
There was no light coming in through the windows, and as the last ember spent itself I was awash with shadow. I went to the mantle to seek another candle, and with any degree of fortune the match that might serve to light it.  
When my finger brushed the mantle, the stone beneath began to glow, a white light overtaking the entire fireplace. The hearth opened up, sort and logs giving way to shining white stairs. I withdrew, but they did not fade, still glowing just beyond the mantle. A strange music began to fill my chambers, it sounded of a far away echoing chorus though the words were warped and I couldn’t catch even so much as a single word.  
“Who’s there?” I asked.  
The singing continued, but gave no variation in sound.  
I soon reasoned that it didn’t mattered little what the words were saying. Whatever awaited me through the strange passage would be better then waiting for Mother’s rage. I ducked inside and began to descend.  
The stairs were freezing, the sharp cold bit like ice into the soles of my feet. I gritted my teeth and forged ahead, but by the third stair I was wishing I’d thought to grab something in the way of slippers. I turned to go back, but found the stairs behind me had faded, and nothing beyond them but soot-covered chimney bricks. I had to continue forward, or not at all. I didn’t wish to sit on the stairs, nor linger any longer then I might have to. I began to take the steps two at a time. Glancing over my shoulder they vanished all the more rapidly.  
I began to fear what might happen if they were to catch up. None of the conclusions I drew led to pleasant outcomes.  
The air changed as I pushed on, giving way from the stifled candle smoke of my bedroom to a heavy odor, sweet and damp. I began to see the fuzzy shape of hedgerow and clipped trees just beyond an arching stone chamber. At first I thought I’d just found some hidden passage to the garden from my room, heart weighed down with a woeful disappoint that I was still within her domain, within her grasp. As I drew nearer, I was increasingly certain of just the opposite.  
These trees did not grow like ours, for their trunks twisted at impossible angles, every position of branch and curl of leaves at odds with the natural order. Their trunks glistened as white as the stairs I walked, but everything else was scorched and blackened. At last I could put a name to that smell that so densely perfumed the air. All around me was the stink of dying flowers. The stairs merged into a glowing cobbled pathway leading straight into the heart of the black garden.  
The singing continued, I looked about for its source but it still sounded as distant and garbled as before. I stepped out from the last stair, onto the tilled earth. As I expected the path behind me sealed itself, bricks filling in the archway that had been open just moments before.  
I ventured to call my greeting once again.  
“Hello?”  
The air hummed, shaking with a violent heat and filling my lungs with dust. A skull throbbing ache broke out from my temple, radiating outward until it pulsed behind my ears. I had to get down to my knees, for standing in the impossible tempest shook my bones. I dug my nails into the earth and waited for the storm to pass.  
Gradually the heat faded, leaving spider-webbed cracks across the ground. It was as parched as my throat, for the moisture had not returned as the headache receded. I kept my mouth closed and continued on. My feet let up little clouds of dust and crumbled flower petals, though there was not a wilted rose to hand and the hedgerow never seemed to get any closer. I might’ve walked the glimmering cobbles for hours and not moved at all.  
I shouldn’t have come here.  
I tried turning around, walking any other direction then forward, but behind and to every side it was the same path and trees promised ever so near on the horizon.  
I couldn’t go anywhere.


End file.
